


Coming Home Soon

by XtaticPearl



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Adoption, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Enemies to Friends, Family Dynamics, Family Feels, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Guardian-Ward Relationship, Kid Peter Parker, Lawyers, M/M, Male-Female Friendship, Minor Happy Hogan/Pepper Potts, Minor Sharon Carter/Natasha Romanov, Past Bucky Barnes/Natasha Romanov, Past Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Past Sharon Carter/Steve Rogers, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Steve Rogers Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Has Issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-08 22:10:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16437746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XtaticPearl/pseuds/XtaticPearl
Summary: When Steve Rogers first got the responsibility of Peter, he wasn't sure he could ever be a guardian to a kid. However, after 7 years of raising the child prodigy, he couldn't imagine not having Peter with him. Of course, that's when the universe decided to bring up old complications and Steve was challenged for the custody of a kid who only wants his family. In a losing battle, the only hope Steve got was in the notoriously controversial lawyer Tony Stark. Will this new meeting save Steve's family or will it bring home a new chaos?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ishipallthings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ishipallthings/gifts).



> This work wouldn't have been possible without two people: one is my biggest critic/beta and the other is the person who first gave me this idea. TheLastMatch has truly shown more patience than I ever could imagine and been a soundboard of dreams. And ishipallthings trusted me with this idea when I know what it means to them. You're both rockstars. I love you both and hope I didn't disappoint either.

A red herring came under his feet when Steve pushed the door open, still shaking away the rain from his hair.

“What - oh c’mon,” he stepped into the apartment and caught sight of the mess. There was a streak of something orange that he dearly _hoped_ was marmalade, in haphazard patterns along the floor. There was a lego piece under the leg of the shoe-rack and there was no way the whole thing should have been balancing but it was. He looked further and caught sight of the purple -

“I told you,” Steve toed away the laundry basket that had somehow found its way into the living room, “The one thing I told you and it’s here. No arrows. What’s so hard to forget in that, no really, what was wrong with that single rule?”

“I deserve a raise”

Steve swallowed a grin at the indignant tone and turned to his right to see the determined looking 3 feet high figure.

“I didn’t know that this involved payment,” he quipped and bent to pick up a stray sock, cringing at the spit-soaked feel on it, “Is he here?”

“The adult or the purple-dog?” Peter asked as he walked into the room, eyeing the sock with distaste before he glared at Steve, “Also, we’re out of Cheerios.”

“I honestly don’t know who the purple dog is -”

“Uncle Clint”

“ - and,” Steve shot Peter a look even as he ruffled his hair, anticipating the attempted escape before it happened, “it’s grocery day tomorrow, so add it to the list?”

“I’m adding chocolates too!” Peter announced as he sped to the kitchen, swiping the sock from Steve’s hand before he left.

“Don’t add the coconut ones!” Steve called back as he made his way to the bedroom where he could definitely hear a whine.

“ - no, I said drop it dude, c’mon. Yeah, well it’s not like _you_ do laundry either - oh. Hi, Cap,” Clint looked up from where he was talking to Lucky, nodding at Steve before his eyes fell on Steve’s wet state, “Wow, what’d you do, soak up all of Queens?”

“What’d you do, bring him in a picnic basket?” Steve gestured to Lucky who now looked hopefully at Steve, a tentative wag of his tail making Steve sigh, “He’s getting better with the puppy eyes.”

“Been practicing at Kate’s,” Clint shrugged, “How’d the meeting go?”

Steve walked over to his closet to get a towel out and let Lucky brush up against his legs as he tried to catch the towel.

“Wasn’t bad,” Steve answered, wincing as his foot hit another lego piece, “How is this _all_ over the place? What did you do? Play catch with it?”

Clint caught the piece Steve threw at him one-handed, adding it to the box on the bed.

“He was being all -” Clint made a see-saw gesture with his hands, “- wizard again so I figured I’d teach him some target skills.”

“It’s - it’s Lego, Clint,” Steve pat Lucky’s head and threw the towel in Clint’s face, “Also, he likes building things.”

“He was trying to build a robot.”

“You like robots,” Steve blocked Lucky from getting onto the bed, “Why was there marmalade all over my front room?”

“That was Lucky,” Clint defended, trying to pick the dog up and physically pull him away from the bed that he definitely was aiming for.

“And the soggy purple sock?”

“Lucky”

“All the Cheerios disappearing from the house?”

“You get the pattern here, Steven.”

“And _why_ ,” Steve looked up at Clint, pinning him with a knowing look, “is Lucky here?”

Clint paused in his wrestle with Lucky, getting a faceful of tail before he answered with a faux-nonchalant tone.

“I honestly don’t know what you expected from me.”

“ _Not_ bringing a dog into the apartment where dogs are, I don’t know, banned?” Steve asked, picking up the towel that had fallen to the floor, “Clint, you know what Jameson thinks about dogs. Or cats.Or any animal apart from himself.”

Clint managed to distract Lucky enough to get his mind off the bed, straightening to meet Steve’s look.

“Jonah Jameson thinks the sky is out to get him everytime it rains, Rogers. You really think I care about what he says anymore?” Clint rolled his eyes, “Besides, he doesn’t know _and_ Pete likes Lucky. So there’s no problem, really.”

“There will be if we continue to tempt fate,” Steve replied, eyeing his pants sticking to his legs, “I need to get changed. Can you clean up the mess in the front room?”

“I only agreed to babysitting, dude!”

“It’s _your_ mess and there’s Delmar’s sandwiches on the table,” Steve said as he walked towards the bathroom, hearing Clint run out the door even before he could finish the sentence.

It had been a long day at work and work was never the same everyday for Steve.  Not that it had been so a decade ago but there was no point in comparing battlefields. Private security was a choice thrown into his lap after a year doing odd-jobs right on the heels of his discharge.

“Cap!” he heard a yell from outside and shut the shower for a minute.

“Yeah?”

“Tasha wants to know if you’re coming tomorrow!”

Steve wiped shampoo off his forehead and leaned towards the door, truly hoping that Natasha wasn’t on the phone right now or that Peter didn’t bring the phone into the room.

“Can you tell her I’ll call back?”

There was a pause before the voice sounded closer to the door.

“She says no!”

The door opened and Steve poked his head out, raising his brow at a grinning Peter who knew exactly how to trap Steve when he wanted to.

“This is for the babysitting, isn’t it?” Steve asked and the boy shrugged even as his eyes gave away the mischief, “Fine, you win. Tell her I’ll be there tomorrow. And can you please give me five minutes? I’ll be out soon.”

“You can’t wash off rain,” Peter replied even as he brought the phone to his ear and began talking to Natasha, leaving the room without looking back.

“Keep logic away from my showers!” Steve laughed and added as an afterthought, “And keep Lucky away from the laundry basket!”

It took a double sandwich to get Clint to go back home and Steve watched him hide Lucky in a backpack artfully, even through that was bound to snap soon.

“Oh, hey,” Clint paused as he was leaving, “There was some mail for you. I left them on the fridge.”

“ _In_ the fridge?” Steve asked, looking back to check if Peter was still there to verify.

“Funny, but no,” Clint replied, “On top. Sorry about the Cheerios!”

“No, you’re not!” Peter replied from inside the apartment and Steve shrugged unapologetically at Clint’s mock affronted look.

Later that night, as Steve was checking the mail that Clint had spoken about, he caught sight of Peter focused on his puzzle again. It had been a gift from one of the clients Steve had worked with a year ago, an intricate interlocking puzzle box that had gone from not impressing Peter to helping him quiet his mind over the span of time.

Steve checked his watch and got up from the table, rolling his neck as he tried to straighten the knots. The floor was cool against his feet and he flexed them, reminding himself to get his shoes altered sooner than he’d planned. His arches were killing him and even through he refused to admit Sam’s theory of plantar fasciitis, he probably did need to check on the pain with something other than painkillers. He suspected that Sam only insisted on his theory to get Steve to call the VA again and that was not a madness he was willing to go through.

“Hey, bud,” Steve called out as he walked around the couch, “Still no luck, huh?”

Peter was leaning against the couch and didn’t look up but made a clicking sound as he yawned.

“I know I can crack it,” he replied and Steve sat down next to him, legs stretched out, “When’s Sharon coming back?”

Steve looked at the puzzle in Peter’s hands, slinging an arm on the couch behind him. He could see the pauses when Peter’s brain rethought every move, fingers retracing the idea on the box. It was fascinating for the others, to see the genius manifest in almost everything he attempted and Steve was proud of him too but there was also the part of him that was wary. Not because of Peter but rather _for_ him, and if he closed his eyes now Steve could see May tell him the same thing he had been trying to do for the past seven years.

_Steve hoped he wasn’t holding the baby wrong but the little guy wasn’t complaining and he shifted his grip._

_“He doesn’t eat people, Steve, relax,” May tasted her sauce and made a face, looking back at the recipe, “Why did I ever start doing this? We should have just ordered in.”_

_Peter got hold of Steve’s finger and was examining it curiously when Steve shot May a look over her counter._

_“We would have if you didn’t consider everything Hill said to be a challenge,” he reminded, letting Peter chew at his finger, “She just said that she didn’t expect you to be Italian. How does that translate to all of this?”_

_May pointed at him with her spatula, ready to make an argument, when she smelled something that made her eyes go wide._

_“I’m a goddamned lawyer” May announced an hour later as they sat on the kitchen floor, side by side, a tub of butter pecan between them._

_“I know that,” Steve said as he tried to sneak in a spoon of the ice-cream, spoon-fighting with May, “Also, can we watch the language?”_

_“I’m improving his language, Rogers,” she corrected, watching Peter bite the nipple of his bottle, “He’s gonna need it when brats shove him against lockers at school.”_

_Steve scooped a bit of ice-cream and hummed around his spoon, offering Peter a finger when he reached out a hand._

_“You ever think you’re thinking too much?”_

_May kicked his shin lazily and readjusted Peter on her lap, wiping at his chin when he missed the bottle._

_“My point,” she reiterated, “is that I’m a lawyer. I can afford good heating in my apartment. I should be able to cook a decent meal without setting my kitchen on fire.”_

_“So you’re smart,” Steve nodded, “that doesn’t translate to good culinary skills for everyone. Besides, you can always learn. Hopefully before Peter learns.”_

_May made a vague noise of agreement and they sat in silence for a minute before she spoke again._

_“She always wanted to do this, y’know?” she confided, that quiet tone coming through that always was linked to her sister, “She wanted to move away from all that -” May made a wave gesture, “- spotlight bs and learn all of this. This was her dream for years.”_

_Peter banged his hand against May’s thigh and she scratched at his head lightly, lost in thought._

_“I’m not gonna let him get lost like her, Steve,” she promised and he looked at her, “Everything she missed, everything I saw her not get, Pete’s gonna get them. A normal life, a normal home. A normal messy and fun adolescence.”_

_Steve looked at Peter, engrossed in his own world of spit bubbles and spilt milk. He knew why May was adamant about it but he didn’t know if normalcy was a constant feature of anyone’s life. He also didn’t know or appreciate the circus May’s family created around their prestige so he understood her need to do things that other people had as habit. Being rejected by her parents at 18 had made May extremely aware of the importance acceptance had, and in the years he had known her Steve had seen it be a base for most of her actions._

_“And hey,” May nudged his shoulder, “if I go overboard, you can always be the adult. I’m sure some of your beige-ness will make things simple.”_

_“Beige-ness?”_

_“It’s code for being boring,” May informed and chuckled at his eye-roll, “Seriously though, I’m glad you’re around in his life.”_

_“He’s your nephew,” Steve reminded with a nudge back, “I’m just the cool neighbour with battle-scars and babysitting favours.”_

_“You can borrow him on weekends, don’t worry,” she informed with a wink and yelped with a laugh when Peter banged her knee harder, “Hey little dude, careful or I might just let Steve have you forever!”_

“Wasn’t she supposed to be coming back soon?” Peter asked and Steve blinked back to the present, looking down to see the boy still focused on his box.

“Yeah,” Steve swallowed and let the image of his old friend fade from mind, “She was. You need something from her?”

“Nothing urgent,” Peter shrugged and yawned again, prompting Steve to tap his head.

“C’mon, time to sleep,” Steve suggested, patting Peter’s stomach when he groaned, “You have school tomorrow, c’mon, let’s go buddy.”

“Why can’t we learn everything from the internet?” Peter asked and Steve huffed, picking the boy up when he slunk back into the couch, “Internet won’t have Flash or Ms. Francis.”

“I thought you’ll have Ms. Allen this year?” Steve asked, getting up and rearranging Peter in his arm, “And you’ll miss Ned without school, won’t you?”

Peter simply yawned and rested his head on Steve’s shoulder, putting an arm around his neck. Steve carried the boy to his room and placed him on the bed, shaking his head when he noted that Peter had already fallen asleep. He pulled the BB-8 bed sheet over the boy, tucking in quickly with practice, and flicked on the shooting stars nightlight. The blinking of the lights illuminated the room softly, shifting from gold to silver in rhythm. The light from the small turtle’s bowl on Peter’s bedside prompted him to go check on Mister Softie who wasn’t interested in acknowledging Steve but lay safe within his shell.

As he was leaving the room, Steve heard Peter shifting on the bed and turned.

“Steve?”

“Yeah, bud?”

“Next time, can I stay over at Ned’s when you’ve got an emergency at work?” Peter blinked blearily and Steve smiled a little.

“I’ll talk to his mom and figure it out,” he promised with a nod, “can you have mini wheats for breakfast tomorrow?”

“I’ll talk to my appetite and figure it out,” Peter answered sleepily and Steve took that as a yes, wishing him good night as he left for his own bed.

He’d discuss the Flash bit with Peter later, he thought to himself as he finally rested, hoping that there wouldn’t be any more emergencies for a while.

  



	2. Chapter 2

The list of Fun Things To Do During The Weekend never had a drive from the airport anywhere on it but that’s what they were doing, the unfortunate day only salvaged by the fact that everybody except Sam was having fun.

“Carter, you poke me with that one more time and it's going out the window,” he declared when the light-saber nudged his thigh for the fifth time.

“Didn't the prediction say that it'll be sunny today?” Sharon asked, popping another chip into her mouth and chewing obnoxiously at Sam, “Why's it so gloomy then?”

Natasha didn't look in the rearview but quirked a smirk when she heard Sharon's wince, only intervening when the grunts grew louder.

“Hey, I can just drop you both off right here,” she warned calmly, glancing at her fiancee in the mirror, “I don't get paid to drive either of you”

“But you have benefits for one,” Sharon quipped and Sam made a comment under his breath that sparked off another pushing fest. They were entering Whitestone Bridge when Sharon’s phone rang.

“ - don’t cheat, hold on,” Sharon put a truce onto her bickering and picked up the call on speaker, a grin on her face, “Hey Rogers, what’s the -”

“Hi Aunt Ronnie, did you get my Deathstar?”

“Hey champ,” Sharon’s eyes met Natasha’s on the mirror and she raised a brow, “Yeah, I got some space goodies for you but I couldn’t get my hands on the Deathstar. Sorry, honey.”

“Oh,” Peter paused and then continued, sounding a little breathless, “That’s okay, thank you!”

“Hey, Pete? What’re you doing with Steve’s phone?” Sharon asked and saw Sam frown a little, wondering the same thing.

“He told me to take it with me,” Peter answered, oblivious to the alert he had created in the adults listening to him, “I’m going with Mr. Leeds to get some tools for his garden. Steve asked if you could get some pineapples on your way when you guys come home in the evening.”

“Pineapples, huh? You got it,” Sharon shot Sam a look and watched him bring out his own phone to send a message, “Have fun with the tools and I’ll see you at home, okay?”

“Okay, bye!” Peter agreed cheerfully before the call was cut. Natasha shifted gears even before Sharon could speak.

“Sam, you got any missed calls?” she asked and Sharon was busy trying Steve’s burner phone, a relic from when he had first come back from the front.

“No, and Clint says he didn’t get any calls either,” Sam checked his messages before looking up at Natasha, “What’re you thinking?”

“He used the emergency code. It could be anything,” Sharon replied, cutting her attempted call in frustration, “Why doesn’t he ever charge that thing if he’s gonna keep it?”

“I’m taking the shortcut,” Natasha informed and kept her eyes on the road, counting on the others to keep trying to find more information. Sharon’s aunt had come up with the ‘pineapple’ code during Sharon’s college days and it had spread out to all of them as they’d met over time.

By the time they had pulled into Austin Street, Sharon had gotten into her battle-mode and Sam had tried Mr. Leeds in hope of more information in vain.

“Why’re you ringing the bell?” Sharon asked when they rushed to the door, pulling out her spare key, but Sam shot her a look before ringing again.

“Till you find something to panic about, act normal,” he countered and they both turned to the door when they heard the lock open. Whatever they had expected, it wasn’t a calm looking Steve on the other side of the door.

“Please tell me you didn’t actually ask for the fruit,” Sam commented as Sharon moved inside, looking around the apartment.

“He wouldn’t,” Sharon answered before turning to look at Steve, “You wouldn’t, right?”

Steve walked towards the couch and sat down, looking eerily composed, and the other two exchanged a look before they walked over to the couch too.

Before Sharon could ask anything, Steve handed her an envelope and Sam moved towards the kitchen to get a glass of water for himself. Sharon stared at Steve for a second before opening the envelope and unfolding the paper inside it.

“What’s that?” Sam asked as he came back into the room but Sharon remained quiet, and he looked at Steve, offering him the second glass he had, “Here, have some water. You look like you saw a ghost.”

“You guys really need to learn the purpose of a door,” Natasha called out as she finally reached, shutting the door behind her as she entered the apartment, “What’s the emergency?”

Sam was about to comment when Sharon finally came out of her reading trance.

“What the fuck?” she asked, making both Sam and Natasha look at her, “What - are you serious?!”

Sam looked at Steve but Natasha moved towards her fiancee, removing her jacket and throwing it on the nearest seat. She stood beside Sharon and read the paper, frowning at the very sentence.

“Custody?” she commented but kept going, taking the notice from Sharon’s hands when she went to wave it in a gesture, “When did you get this?”

“What the  _ fuck _ ?” Sharon repeated, glaring at Steve and Sam looked between them before looking at Natasha.

“Anybody mind explaining what the hell’s going on?”

“Somebody’s claiming custody of Peter,” Natasha said coolly, still reading and Sam looked at Steve sharply.

“His lawyer came around this morning,” Steve finally spoke, still staring at his hands, “Said that they just wanted to talk about a few things and introduce Peter to his real family.”

“Who’s ‘they’?” Sam demanded but Sharon took a furious step in Steve’s direction.

“Why didn’t you  _ call _ me? Give me the number of this lawyer, I’m gonna have a chat,” she said even as she pulled out her phone but Steve looked up at Sam.

“Norman Osborn,” he replied and Sam looked confused before he looked at Sharon.

“Wait, Osborn?” he clarified, looking between Steve and Sharon, “Osborn as in Oscorp?”

“The guy who looks like a goblin, yes, him,” Sharon nodded, still looking enraged, “Did you tell him anything? Did the lawyer meet Peter? Why did you ever let him into the apartment?!”

“What was I supposed to do, Sharon?” Steve shot back, “Call the cops on him for coming home?!”

“If he was threatening to take your kid away, then yes!”

“Hey!” Sam cut in, staring both of them down, “I get it, everybody’s tensed. But can we have all the information down first? I’m still confused by why Osborn knows Peter, let alone is talking custody.”

Steve took a deep breath and looked at Sam, relaxing infinitesimally when Sharon sat beside him. She still looked tensed but her leg nudged Steve’s in a gesture of support and he knew that she could be mad but it wasn’t really at him. 

“Osborn is Richard’s step-brother, related by mother,” Steve began speaking, eyes shifting to Natasha who was still looking at the notice, “He didn’t know about Peter’s existence till a couple of weeks back, which makes sense since May didn’t talk to anyone from Peter’s dad’s side and I’ve never met Mary myself. He met Peter at school -”

“He went to his  _ school _ -” Sam started but Steve shook his head.

“His son joined Peter’s school last month. He’s in the same class,” Steve informed, linking his hands together, elbows resting on his knees, “Pete did tell me about Flash teasing some new kid but I didn’t link that the Harry he was talking about was actually Harry Osborn. Anyway, apparently Osborn met Peter when he came to pick Harry up one day and he found out that he was Mary Parker’s son.”

“Which led him to the link that he’s also Richard’s son,” Sharon filled the gaps and ran a hand through her hair in agitation, “Okay, but why is he talking about custody?”

“Because he’s the only living family Peter has,” Natasha spoke finally, looking up from the notice, meeting Steve’s eyes, “And he wants to make sure that his brother’s legacy returns to the family.”

“He doesn’t even have the family surname,” Sam scoffed, “He has Mary’s surname and they weren’t married when they had the kid.”

“Those are just semantics to Osborn,” Natasha disagreed and sat on the ottoman opposite Steve, “Why didn’t you do anything when you first got this? It dates to a week back.”

“I didn’t read it. Clint got the mail and I got distracted by other things,” Steve rubbed at his forehead, “Hammer said that they assumed I was avoiding them and that’s why he came for a visit. Claimed he’s just a good friend of Mr. Osborn right now.”

“Hammer?” Sharon frowned at Natasha who raised her brow. 

“Justin Hammer,” Steve clarified, nodding at Sam when his brows went up, “Yeah, the Vanko scandal guy.”

“He’s a damn clown,” Sam snorted but frowned when he saw the ladies exchange a look, “You guys saw the whole drama he created with Ivan Vanko, right? He’s dramatic and cuckoo.”

“And friendly with the press,” Natasha informed, folding the notice, “Which isn’t exactly what you want against you.”

Steve grit his teeth and shook his head repeatedly, standing up when Sharon attempted to speak again. 

“I need to go,” he announced, eyes blazing but hands clenched, “I need to - I should go get Peter. I haven’t even told Leeds why I sent Pete with him. I should go.”

Sam caught Natasha’s eye and caught the keys she threw at him, walking around to the chair where he had left his jacket. 

“Alright, let’s go, I’ll drive.”

“I can do it,” Steve argued but Sam calmly nodded even as he shrugged on the jacket. 

“Yeah, but you can’t exactly pick everyone up in your bike,” he reasoned, “And I need some things from the market too.”

Steve didn’t persist when Sam opened the door, instead following him out without bothering with a jacket himself. Natasha shut the door once they had left and took a breath before turning to see Sharon still sitting on the couch. Steve and Sharon had broken up before May’s accident but that hadn’t stopped her involvement in Peter’s life. She took great pride in being the kid’s cool aunt and Natasha knew that her fiancee wasn’t much better at coping with anger than Steve. 

“I’m fine,” Sharon called out without turning and Natasha rolled her eyes as she walked back into the room. 

“That’s reassuring,” she replied, collapsing onto the armchair beside the couch, “How about you tell me what’s really going on in your head?”

“You think this is serious?” Sharon asked, looking up at Natasha, “It could just be a rich white guy being pissed that he didn’t know something.”

Natasha nodded and crossed her ankles as she leaned back onto the chair.

“Could be. But,” she met Sharon’s brown gaze, “a rich white guy sending a notice isn’t really the same as a rich white guy claiming custody for a kid.”

“We need to go meet him,” Sharon shook her head, ignoring the blonde fringe that was disturbing her eyes, “We can talk about this.”

Natasha didn’t reply and Sharon looked to see her staring at the coffee table, a pensive look on her face. Of the entire gang, Natasha was the only one who had any connection to a legal background and that was through being secretary in a law firm but most of that had no legal aspects. Now a full-time ballet choreographer, she still had more experience than all of them combined even through Sharon knew that Coulson would help if they needed him. 

“Nat?”

“I think,” Nat said, shooting Sharon a glance, “we’re gonna need a lawyer.”

“I’ll call Coulson then,” Sharon pulled out her phone but Nat shook her head. 

“Coulson won’t cut it,” she said, inhaling deep, “He’s good, great even, but he won’t fit.”

“He’s got more experience than Hammer could,” Sharon argued.

“Hammer’s flashy,” Nat countered but Sharon made a frustrated sound and stood up. 

“I’m gonna talk to him anyway. Maybe if he can’t, one of his associates can,” she suggested and walked to the kitchen to make the call, leaving Nat alone to think. The pristine envelope lay tame on the table and Natasha picked it up to examine one more time. 

“We’re gonna need a lawyer who can perform,” she observed to herself and twisted the envelope between her fingers, “And I think I know where to find the exact person for the job.”

She pulled her own phone out and scrolled through the contacts, stopping when she hit the name of her ex-employer. Dialling the number she waited patiently, knowing what it would take to get this job done. 

“Hello?” she called out when the line connected, “Hi, it’s Natasha Romanov for Ms. Potts. Yes, that Romanov, hi. I’m good, thank you. By any chance, is Ms. Potts free today? She - oh, brilliant. I’m on my way now. What? No, no, it’s personal, don’t worry. I’ll see you soon, Mrs. Arbogast, thank you.”

Putting the phone back into her pocket, Natasha picked up the envelope, ready to find the solution to a problem she suspected was going to get bigger than it was right now. 


	3. Chapter 3

The place had been revamped since the last time she had been there but Natasha could still recognize a few pieces that were all Pepper. She smiled a little when they passed an elegantly framed  _ Sons of Liberty Bowl _ and caught sight of Mrs. Arbogast as they neared the reception. 

“This is like Steve’s fantasy mixed with Clint’s nightmare,” Sharon whispered as she took stock of the place but smiled politely when Natasha greeted the older secretary. 

“Hi, Natasha,” Bambi Arbogast nodded in their direction, rimless glasses sitting perfectly on her face, “Ms. Potts is expecting you.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Arbogast,” Natasha replied, directing Sharon to the classy teak door with a simple nameplate on it. 

“You sure about this?” Sharon asked for the umpteenth time but Nat simply nodded before knocking on the door. They had discussed this decision on conference on their way over, with Steve trusting Natasha’s judgement but Sam being dubious on the speed of things. Sharon, who had an inkling of what Nat was planning, wasn’t sure if it would work but she had insisted on accompanying her. 

“Come in,” a voice called out and they entered the spacious office to see a tall red-haired woman sitting behind an ergonomically well-designed table, looking poised in white. Sharon got the impression that this was a woman used to walking through fire while managing not to get burnt. Virginia Potts shot them a polite nod before getting up, her posture screaming well-trained in body language. 

“Hi, Natasha,” she greeted, extending a hand to shake Nat’s, “It’s good to see you after so long. How’re you doing?”

“I’m good, Pepper, thank you,” Nat turned to Sharon, “This is Sharon Carter, a firefighter and my fiancee.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Sharon,” Pepper smiled and Sharon nodded, “Please, have a seat. Mrs. Arbogast said you had something personal to discuss?”

“I brought you an engagement present,” Nat said and placed the envelope on the table. Pepper eyed it and picked it up, opening it with a surprised expression that morphed into seriousness. 

“Norman Osborn,” she hummed, looking up at them as she put the notice down, “And Steve Rogers is your friend?”

“He’s Peter’s guardian and our friend,” Sharon replied, “We didn’t have any clue that Peter  _ had _ anybody else till we got this.”

“Steve’s with Peter right now and a bit disturbed so I thought I’d come talk to you before,” Nat shrugged a shoulder, “bringing him or anyone else.”

“This definitely doesn’t look like a joke and I’m sure Norman isn’t playing around,” Pepper informed, looking at the envelope, “You know his lawyer?”

“You know him too,” Nat quipped, smiling ruefully when Pepper raised a brow, “It’s Justin Hammer.”

“So the rumours are true,” Pepper observed with a tired expression before looking at both of them, “Well, if Mr. Osborn has hired Hammer for the job, you can expect a bit of press coming for the ride.”

“That’s why I need your help,” Nat nodded.

“I can ask a couple of our team to sit with you and you could -” Pepper noted Nat’s expression and changed track mid sentence, “You’re not here to ask help from our firm. Are you?”

“I did say personal help,” Nat commented and Sharon saw Pepper’s eyes regard them coolly before she looked at Nat again. 

“I’m afraid I can’t help you with anything other than this”

“Pepper, I need his number,” Nat countered calmly, not budging even under Pepper’s sharp gaze, “We need him for this.”

“I’m sure he’s listed on the internet,” Pepper evaded, but Sharon could see her not meeting their eyes clearly. 

“And we both know that it won’t get me to him,” Nat rebutted, holding Pepper’s gaze when she looked, “Pepper, this is not a custody battle. It’s a stage-show and Hammer’s going to bring every bit of heat he can, on both Steve and Peter. A lawyer can fight a case but we need a performer to fight this.”

“He doesn’t fight major cases anymore, Natasha,” Pepper laid bare, shaking her head, “There’s no news of him for the past eight months and I don’t think you’ll like what you find if you actually do meet him now.”

“He went through the worst case of his life and turned it into his biggest win,” Nat commented, “I know he hasn’t fought anything big recently but Pepper, he’s a genius. For all his reputation and impressions, he is a certified genius. And it helps that he’s among the few people Hammer is actually terrified of.”

“You’re underestimating the incident that sent him away,” Pepper said and took a breath to compose herself before she continued, “I know that he’s a genius, Natasha, trust me I know that extremely well. I understand that this is important to you too. But I don’t think you understand me here. He just doesn’t do this anymore. He quit his own firm. He left everything and he doesn’t seem keen on returning.”

“If this was you,” Sharon cut through, noting that Pepper looked conflicted, “If it was your case and you needed somebody to fight it. If it was you in Steve’s shoes right now - who would you want on your team?”

Pepper stared at Sharon but the blonde woman didn’t back down, letting the silence make a decision. After a minute of pause, Pepper exhaled and looked at the table before shaking her head. 

“I’d want Tony Stark,” she admitted and huffed a shadow of a chuckle before opening a diary set on the side of her table, pulling out a simple white card from it.

“Thanks, Pepper,” Nat said as she took the offered card. 

“I haven’t tried that number in months,” Pepper reminded but she didn’t discourage them from trying. As they were leaving, Pepper stopped Natasha. Sharon looked between them and excused herself, slipping out the door to give them a moment. 

“If you bring him into this,” Pepper walked around her table towards Nat, “you know that it’ll get personal. Everything about this case will make things personal for him. You understand that. Right?”

Natasha smiled but nodded. “I’m counting on it,” she said and Pepper nodded to herself, a past regret on her face before she extended a hand. 

“If you manage to get him on the case, Ms. Romanov, I’ll owe you one.”

“I think it’s time Tony Stark got back into a court,” Natasha agreed and shook Pepper’s hand. Pepper watched Natasha go and stood staring at the closed door for a few minutes, processing what had just happened. 

“I hope you come back too, Tony,” she said in the empty office, the memory of a different office setting still fresh in her mind. There were a lot of things to clear between them and Pepper didn’t know if all of them could be cleared easily but it was true that she missed her friend. The man who’s single decision had changed a lot of lives. 

For all her wisdom, Pepper hoped this one risk would pay off. She thought it would be worth it, even if it came with its own bit of hiccups. 

A lot of things would prove worth it if Anthony Stark could find his way back to where he belonged. 

Sharon observed her girlfriend quietly on their drive back home, not having said much since they had left the Stark office. Natasha knew there were questions but she was biding her time till Sharon was ready to pose them instead of just pushing her to ask. She didn’t have to wait long through, and it made her swallow a smile. 

“I thought you called him a narcissist?” Sharon asked, flipping through her phone as they drove, “Didn’t you used to dislike the guy when you worked with him?”

Natasha remembered that time, when she had joined the earlier Stark & Stane on Nick’s recommendation. Tony Stark had been a raging alcoholic with more issues wrapped around him than rings around his mentor’s fingers. She had commented on his instability to her friends once, much before she quit, and had been sure that there could be nothing about him that would appeal to him. 

Of course, that had been before she had understood who Obadiah Stane was and how he pushed situations in ways that would garner expected reactions from his godson and protege. The day after she had quit, after receiving an unexpectedly thoughtful recommendation from Tony for her future jobs, the news of the kidnapping and attempted murder had come out. 

Natasha could still see the visual of Obadiah Stane almost declaring Tony dead in the press conference, before they’d gotten any evidence. It had taken a long three months before Tony found his way back home. 

What happened after that had been sensational for weeks, getting mixed extreme reactions from everyone who had an opinion. 

“He threw his entire life’s earning, his career, and everything he could have under the bus to win a case,” Natasha replied, tapping her fingers on the steering, “A case that destroyed his own family. Well, what he had of a family. I’m good at my judgements of people, Sharon, but even I can be surprised at times.”

“But what makes you think he’s right for Steve and Peter?” Sharon asked, glancing at Natasha, “And don’t give me the ‘performer’ reason because I  _ know _ you have something else in mind.”

Natasha chuckled at the dry tone but shrugged casually. 

“It’s not much but I have a hunch that he’ll relate to this case,” she answered, keeping her eyes on the road, “If it doesn’t work, we have your list from Coulson anyway, right?”

“Yeah, if Steve doesn’t end up in a fight with Stark first,” Sharon muttered to herself, going back to her phone but Natasha smirked quietly. 

When they got back to Steve’s apartment, Sam opened the door looking exhausted and Sharon raised her brow but got nothing in reply apart from a door left ajar. 

“Who needs Netflix when you get live drama?” Natasha commented but entered the apartment, shutting the door behind Sharon. They could hear Peter and Clint’s tones coming from the bedrooms’ side and looked at the atmosphere in the living room. Steve was on his laptop, and Sam crossed the room to take his seat on the ottoman. 

“You okay?” Sharon asked, getting a quick glance from Steve who nodded before getting back to his screen. 

“I think we should talk to Osborn before we do anything,” he said once he had read through his screen, looking up at them, “It makes more sense and we know Coulson if we need a lawyer.”

Sharon shot Natasha a look but Nat sat down two seats away from Steve, regarding him with a poker face. 

“You already know that we met Potts, don’t you?” she asked and Steve thankfully didn’t deny it, only nodding in reply. 

“I don’t think we can afford Tony Stark, Nat,” he replied, pushing the laptop top closed, “And also, he’s not exactly the kind of guy we’re looking for.”

“What kind of guy is that?”

“Someone who’s smart”

“He’s a damn genius,” Sam commented, raising his hands in surrender when Steve shot him a look, “What? Say what you will about the guy, this is true, right?”

“Alright,” Steve continued, “how about someone who treats sensitive cases well?”

“He’s been working pro bono for six months now,” Sharon said, showing her phone when they looked at her, “It’s not hard to do basic research if you know where to look. He’s also handling cases of immigration for separated families.”

“He doesn’t have the best reputation,” Steve countered and Natasha rolled her eyes. 

“You met Justin Hammer, right?” she asked, leaning back on her seat, “You need a bit of a bad reputation to counter him. Also, you’re going up against Norman Osborn. Stark has experience with both wealth and family name.”

“Why’re you so insistent about him?” Steve snapped but Natasha didn’t react, calmly holding Steve’s gaze. 

“Because this isn’t about liking Tony Stark. Or you,” she said quietly, “This is about a kid who’s gonna be dragged through the worst kind of battle in the coming weeks or months. And  _ he _ deserves someone who can get their hands dirty to protect him.”

Steve stared at Natasha and she wasn’t one to be intimidated by anyone, even someone who had once commanded teams in actual war. Finally Steve sighed, rubbing at his forehead in frustration. 

“Let’s deal with Osborn first,” he compromised, “I’ll meet him tomorrow. And if things don’t work out, we’ll see about the rest later.”

Natasha didn’t say anything but let Steve get away with the evasion, knowing that she would first need to talk to Tony herself. 

Because no matter what Steve thought, she knew that Osborn  wasn’t the kind to compromise on things he wanted. And she suspected that he wanted Peter a lot, for whatever reason they needed to discover soon.


	4. Chapter 4

The main bolt was jammed, a coat of rust creeping in around it. There were marks of a wrong screwdriver being forced onto the screws below the arm and it definitely looked like there hadn’t been a drop of lubricant anywhere near the bot.

“You oiled it last week, right?”

“Yeah!” the boy nodded vehemently, shooting a smug look at his friend that he presumed everybody else missed.

“And you use the number 4 screwdriver to unscrew?”

“Exactly!”

“Great then,” he slapped his hands on his thighs and stood up to look at the two kids, “That proves the real culprit easily.”

The girl stared up at him while her pal nodded with a confident grin.

“Cassie, I’ll fix your bot for you,” he declared and looked at the boy with a raised dark brow, “And you either need to learn to lie better or stop messing with your friends’ stuff. There isn’t a drop of oil used which you’d have known if you had bothered to look at the rust. You used something that _looked_ like it fit the screw but definitely not its screwdriver because I can see the marks of something having been jabbed at it repeatedly.”

The boy looked like he was going to protest but Tony leaned down and looked him in the eye with a grin.

“You wanna know the biggest clue you gave me though?” he asked and the boy kept quiet but Cassie nodded, “You, sir, didn’t note the name scribbled onto the base of the bot.”

The boy looked between Tony and Cassie before he left the workshop in a huff. Tony shrugged and winked at the grinning girl.

“Nice engineering,” he commented, patting the half-baked bot, “You could get better results if you balanced the arm better though.”

“I was building a friend for Dum-E,” she explained, missing the look Tony gave her as she ran a hand over her creation, “He gets a bit bored when you’re not here, right?”

“Right,” Tony blinked and held out a hand to her, “C’mon, if you stay here any longer, your mom’s gonna think I’m using you for free labour.”

“But you’re rich,” Cassie pointed out even as she placed her hand in Tony’s grasp and laughed when he twirled her as they left.

“Thank you, that’s a nice reminder,” he replied, doing a mock bow when she did an awkward curtsy, “I’m not sure my credit card will protect me from your mom’s disappointed look though.”

When he reached the house, Maggie was holding her phone to her ear and waved at them with her free hand, animatedly holding a discussion with someone Tony only presumed was Scott. It always amused him how Maggie could hold all the people in her life in line if she wished to and yet her ex-husband managed to tempt her ire when one of his notorious brainwaves struck. 

"Hey," Maggie called out as she shut her phone and smiled at Cassie before looking at Tony, "Thanks for the help, Tony, Jim said he'd email you the set once he gets all the details.  You think the settlement will be as expected?"

"I think it'll work," Tony nodded and dug his hands into his pant pockets, "She's a smart kid."

Maggie turned around to see Cassie dig around in the back seat of the car for something. 

"Yeah," she agreed, looking back at Tony, "Thinking about one of your own?"

"Do we get these in the supermarket now?" Tony asked and shrugged when she rolled her eyes, "I'm good with others' smart kids, let's not go beyond that for now."

"Speaking of others' smart kids -"

"Oh boy," Tony shook his head but Maggie didn't stop. 

"- it wasn't your smartest decision to give Scott your phone," she informed him, raising her brow in judgement, "One, I think he really is terrified of Natasha now and he hasn't even met her. And two, historically, not the wisest choice to avoid a woman on warpath."

"Not that it's any of anybody's business," Tony began tiredly, "but I've told her no. It's not my fault if she can't stop calling."

"You haven't even met them, Tony," Maggie countered, shooting him a knowing look that reminded him of Pepper, "You don't have a problem helping people when it's here or others you get from Hank. So what's wrong about this case?"

"It's too big," Tony argued and Maggie shook her head.

"It's a little boy, Mr. Stark," she said, sighing when Tony avoided looking at her, "Fine, I'm not going to push but I do know that someday you're gonna have to accept that you're meant to do more than pro bono minor cases or practice your engineering passion in a hidden workshop. If it also involved helping some kid and his family, I think you might feel better about going back."

Tony didn't reply but waved when Maggie drove off and Cassie yelled goodbye. When he got to the porch of the house, he laughed at the phone sitting on the steps, a post-it stuck to it. 

_I think she's gonna stab me in my sleep. Sorry! - SL_

 

"So much for evasion skills," he muttered to himself and pocketed it before entering the house. He'd bought the place in Rhodey's name when he had first left the firm, something Rhodey had complained about but let pass. A small home was never something Tony had related to himself but somehow it felt better than the mansion he had grown up in or the penthouse he had built for himself in the past. There were rooms proportionate to the people who lived in them, roof high enough to unscrew a bulb without much hassle, and no chandeliers swinging down like fake stars in a captured world. 

Dinner was the usual affair and Tony sat in front of the TV he had assembled himself, switching it on as he bit into his pasta when a familiar face exploded onto the screen. 

"JARVIS," he called out, without removing his eyes off the screen, "bring up my emails, will you?"

The screen split into two and Tony saw a single important mail that had come in a couple of hours ago, followed by a barrage of ad mailers that he read through in boredom sometimes. On the other side of the screen, the news was still showing Justin Hammer talk about Norman Osborn and the family legacy, spewing his usual spiel of fantasy. Tony considered the situation for a second before opening the mail. 

Ten minutes into the details and attachments, he dug out the phone he'd foisted off to Scott before, dialling the single number that was on the missed calls list. 

"Hello?" a dry voice answered and Tony kept reading through the files as he answered. 

"He's claiming bad parenting because the kid's too  _smart_?" he asked, enlarging a record of Peter's first evaluation from school. There was a muffled sound of someone mumbling before the line cleared but Tony shifted to the next attachment in the meantime. 

"Tony?" Natasha confirmed and Tony hummed distractedly, "Nice to hear you're still alive."

"Yeah, sure, hey why're the details of May Parker's accident muddled up?" Tony brought two documents up for comparison and scanned through the details, "The autopsy report claims 9.48 p.m but there's another document here that says 9.52 p.m. Did she pull a Jesus for 4 minutes?"

"Where are you?" Natasha enquired, "And how come you're interested in this now?"

"Trivial details, Romanov, now focus," Tony opened up Steve Rogers' records and raised a brow, "Under no condition can Rogers talk to the press before an actual case is filed. Thankfully for us, Hammer is still in his first rounds of promotion so he'll be dragging everyone in after a while. Whoa. Captain Rogers was discharged for disciplinary reasons but received a Purple Heart too? Yeah, this'll be something -"

"Tony"

Tony paused at the tone and brought his focus back to the phone. 

"Yeah?"

"Where are you?"

"Where do you want me to be?" Tony asked and sighed at the silence he got in return, "I'm not there right now but I can be there in Queens by tomorrow. Queens, right?"

"And you'll meet Steve?" Natasha asked calmly.

"I'll meet whoever's necessary," Tony promised after a pause, "Natasha..."

"You avoid my calls again, Stark, and there will be literal hell to pay," Natasha said and Tony laughed, knowing that it was the best he could get away with, "Tony?"

"I know, I'm sorry," he agreed, taking a breath before adding, "And thanks."

"I'll see you tomorrow," Natasha replied understanding without explanation, "3 pm at Randy's. You remember Randy's?"

"The one where you almost stabbed me on your third week of the job? Yeah," Tony confirmed, "It's been long since I got some good donuts."

"It's been a long time since a lot of things," Natasha said but let him go, "See you tomorrow, Mr. Stark."

"Bye, Romanov," Tony replied and put the phone on the coffee table, "JARVIS, looks like we're going to Queens tomorrow."

"Do you wish to call anyone else, sir?" the AI asked but Tony refused. 

"Not right now," he said, pulling up the last file on the mail and opening up a browser in the side, "We've got homework tonight."

When Tony pulled into Randy's the next day, he had some expectations of how the meeting would go but none of those included a 7-year-old staring up at him with curiosity and attempted suspicion. 

"Hi," he said, eyeing the boy, "I'm Tony. What's the expression you're going for, by the way?"

"Your goatee looks better in the pictures," the boy replied and Tony removed his sunglasses, regarding him before shrugging. 

"It's got its own mood," he explained and looked at the man sitting beside the boy, "Hi, Captain Rogers?"

"Thank you for meeting us, Mr. Stark," the blond guy nodded, looking like he was ready to face a firing squad, "Natasha said you had an extremely short notice."

"Not really," Tony said and looked at the boy, "but who's the second part of the 'us'. Who're you?"

"Peter Parker," the dark-eyed boy said clearly, extending a hand that Tony shook, "I get to decide if you're really smart and if you should get the job."

"Sounds fair. What're your requirements?" Tony asked, noting that Rogers was watching him but focusing on Peter. 

"I'll ask my questions after Steve," Peter informed him and Tony nodded, accepting that condition. When he looked back up at Rogers, the man was frowning thoughtfully but cleared his expression on being caught. 

"So, you wanna start now or is the Dodgers' baseball hat joining us too?" Tony asked, gesturing to the man a few tables away from theirs, throwing him a jaunty casual salute when he caught Tony's eye, "Not very subtle when it comes to disguises."

Rogers stared at Tony for a second before turning around to look at the guy who was clearly with them. 

"Friend, I'm guessing," Tony continued, rearranging the shakers on the table, "Because if not, I'd suspect Hammer's men and I don't think we've reached that stage yet. He usually goes for something creepier but later."

"Pete, you wanna go sit with Sam for a bit?" Steve asked the boy who looked at Tony before agreeing, shuffling out from his seat to go join the guy who shot Tony a look before engaging in talk with Peter. 

"Are we expecting any more surprises?" Tony asked but Steve raised a brow, "I don't mind but it'd save time if we got all the snipers out and front right away."

"Sam's a friend," the Captain said and leaned a bit back in his seat, "Natasha said that you weren't interested till yesterday. What changed?"

"I didn't get all the details till yesterday, and I was a bit caught up with other things," Tony replied, smiling at the waitress who passed by them, "You want some coffee?"

"Your reputation precedes you," Steve continued and Tony waved in for a coffee before turning back to the blond, "Do you think that'll be good for the case?"

"I think a reputation is as you use it, you're sure you don't want coffee?" Tony thanked the waitress who left a pot on the table for them, "I'm not really interested in building any future reputation through custody cases. They've got enough weight in them as it is without more attention-grabbing."

"But your records show that you're more focused on building a show than a case"

"My records," Tony repeated slowly, but Steve nodded without looking apologetic. 

"Your last major case, against Obadiah Stane," Steve noted, either oblivious or not caring to Tony's expression, "was one of the biggest spectacles of the year and was built on showmanship more than anything else."

"I doubt the jury would have given the verdict without facts"

"But your methods were theatrical, as described by some of your colleagues," Steve insisted and Tony leaned back in his seat, "And you had the added benefit of being personally connected to Mr. Stane for a long time."

"I'm aware, yes," Tony said dryly, staring at Steve who continued. 

"You don't have a track record of being the calmest or sanest person in the room, Mr. Stark," the Captain explained and Tony rested his chin on one palm, "So you'll understand when I have my doubts about your eligibility for this case."

"Wow," Tony commented, "You're really not my biggest fan, are you?"

"You'll forgive me if I'm not interested in being anybody's fan right now," Steve replied, "It's my kid's life and future at stake here."

"And yet the same kid calls you Steve and not Uncle or Dad," Tony observed, expression shifting to serious in a blink. 

"Excuse me?"

"Earlier, when we were talking, Peter said 'Steve' and not a relation's title," Tony elaborated, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table, "You brought a 7-year-old to interview a lawyer for a major custody case against one of the richest men in the country. Your first reaction to getting a notice from said rich man was to ignore it till a lawyer visited you. Your guardianship of Peter is based on familiarity and not biological or validated legal grounds but you never made an attempt to find any relatives of Peter. Your records of Peter's aunt's death are mixed up and you live in her house now."

"I don't think I appreciate what you're insinuating, Mr. Stark," Steve warned as politely as a warning could be but Tony shook his head lightly. 

"It won't matter if you appreciate or condemn these, Captain, because these are just a few of the statements Hammer can make right in the first hearing," Tony informed him, tapping the table, "As much as showmanship helps, no lawyer worth his salt can win without facts or fabrications on his side. So I believe the question should be, are your facts straight, Captain Rogers? Or do we need to do some sorting out before we get into the case properly?"

Both men stared at each other for a minute before the tense silence was broken by Peter. 

"Is it my turn yet?" he asked when he came over and Tony looked at him before looking at Steve with a questioning look. 

"Yeah," Steve replied, exhaling slowly, "sure, bud. Your turn now. I'll just go make a call and come back."

Tony watched Steve go to the door and then diverted his attention to the child he was supposed to defend in honesty. 

"You ready?" Peter asked and Tony nodded his approval. 


	5. Chapter 5

“But why?”

Tony knew that Peter was a genius but it was amusing to notice that he was stubborn too. They had been debating the benefit and mistakes of giving Dum-E a single arm for the past five minutes.

"You know I can always counter-argue with 'why not', right?" Tony asked, "And can I please have my sunglasses back? They don't fit you right."

"Red is my colour," Peter declared and Tony shrugged in agreement but still held out a hand.

"Maybe, but this is my red. You need to get your own," he informed and made a face before retracting his hand, "On second thoughts, keep it on. It acts like your mask."

"It hides half my face," Peter giggled but Tony rolled his eyes.

"That's the point of masks, kid, c'mon," he commented, waving the waitress off when she came to offer a refill, "You got any other questions, apart from my bots and their logic?"

"What other things are interesting about you?"

"What do you mean other things, I'm an interesting person," Tony huffed when Peter laughed again, "I've got more person in me than you,  _ you _ tell me what's interesting about you, smaller human."

"Everything," Peter replied cheekily and Tony made a face but chuckled.

"See? You're learning, young padawan, I appreciate that," he quipped, "What else do you want to know?"

Peter thought for a minute before leaning in, lowering his voice to ask.

"Do you think Mr. Osborn is an actual bad man or he's just confused like some of the people in the books?" Peter stared up at Tony through the red sunglasses. Tony considered the question well before answering.

"I think Mr. Osborn is an actual person and not someone in the books," he said, "Actual people aren't really predictable unless you know everything about them and we don't know much about him yet. So the only time you can decide if he's good or bad is when you know something about him that you have firmly in your good or bad section of principles. Does that help?"

"No," Peter said slowly, looking thoughtful, "but I think I'll understand later. I do that sometimes with my puzzle."

"Then I guess Mr. Osborn is like your puzzle," Tony agreed, "Anything else?"

"One last please, Mr Stark," the boy remembered and took a deep breath before asking, "Do you really think you can help Steve? I think he needs help and I don't know how."

Tony pushed the glasses up Peter's nose and smiled at the boy.

"I'll do all that I can, okay?" he asked, nodding when Peter agreed, "Hey, can  _ I _ ask you a question?"

Peter looked back to where Sam was standing a few feet away, clearly listening but giving Peter space too. He turned back to Tony and nodded with a determined look that pushed Tony to ask the single most important question he had.

"Why do you want to live with Steve?" he asked and waited for the answer that would determine his future actions.

Once they were done chatting, Tony left Peter with Sam and went out, finding Steve talking on the phone with someone in a frustrated tone.

"I just don't think he'll do it," the Captain declared, running a hand through his hair, making them stand in tufts.

"Nah, I'll do it," Tony called out, pulling out his spare sunglasses from inside his jacket, putting them on as Steve turned to look at him, "I think I got the stamp of approval from Peter too, but just check with him anyway."

"I'll call you back," Steve said before he cut the call, facing Tony completely, "You will?"

"It's why I came to meet you here," Tony said, nodding as he continued, "I know we could have gotten off on a better foot but if you're up for it, I think we can do this. Osborn's refused to compromise and Hammer still doesn't know that you've got yourself a lawyer. We've got a bit of an advantage for now. The rest we'll plan and work. That okay?"

"I know I was a bit standoffish inside but I really want to be sure of this, Mr. Stark -"

"Tony. Mr. Stark was my father and we'll work better if we didn't involve more formality than we're gonna be dealing with"

"How much of this will affect Peter negatively?" Steve asked and Tony pursed his lips in thought.

"I'd be lying if I said none," he replied bluntly, "and considering that this might go highly public if we don't find a bait to make Osborn opt for a more closed case, Peter will definitely have some effect of everything. But we can keep that under check by not adding much from our side and trying to not give Hammer anything to flaunt."

Steve nodded slowly before meeting Tony's eyes squarely.

"Alright, Tony," he offered a hand, "it's a deal then."

"I'll call you tomorrow, once I've got some more details," Tony shook the hand offered, "It's a good beginning, Cap."

"Hopefully leads to a better ending," Steve agreed and Tony nodded, bidding adieu before turning to get to his own car.

He had the option of going to the Tower but then decided against it and took the route to SI, knowing that he didn't deserve a good reception but only hoping that Pepper wouldn't throw him out at sight. The first step into the building was daunting enough to tempt him into turning back but he knew that he would lose any chance of salvaging things if he did.

Bambi looked up at him casually from her table but then did a swift double-take, letting out a short bark of laughter when he grinned at her.

“Took your time,” she commented teasingly even though she was smiling, “Didn't bring strawberries this time, did you?”

“Just one,” Tony replied, patting at his jacket pocket but then nodded in the office door’s direction, “Is the boss in today?”

The secretary eyed Tony for a minute before she enquired over the phone.

“Alright, Ms. Potts,” she nodded after relaying the information, “I'll tell him. Yes, understood. Thank you.”

“Yeah?”

“She says she'll meet you later,” Bambi informed, “You've been scheduled for an appointment sometime down this week.”

Tony eyed the door and looked at Bambi.

“I think she's earned this, Tony,” Bambi added looking a bit sympathetic but being the same voice he had probably ignored a lot in the past.

“Alright,” Tony clapped his hands and smiled at her, “I guess today was to meet you, Bambi.”

She rolled her eyes but didn't throw him out before chatting with him for a few minutes, telling him about her kids and asking about his work. As he was leaving the building, a car pulled up in front of him and the window rolled down.

“Hey, boss,” Happy greeted from the wheel, nodding to the back seat, “Hop in.”

“So she won’t meet me but she’s okay with you meeting me. Interesting,” Tony commented but sighed and opened the door to climb in anyway, “Hey, Hap. I’m not the boss anymore though.”

“I know, but it’s fun hearing you say it sometimes,” Happy quipped, meeting Tony’s eyes in the rearview, “You up for some burgers?”

Tony started to shake his head but then shrugged.

“Good. I’m starving,” Happy replied and drove off, “You’ll need to get some food before you get into the bigger fights anyway.”

Tony decided to spend the night at Happy’s old apartment on the man’s insistence when he said he’d crash at a hotel. Happy didn’t comment on him avoiding the Tower but had left him at the apartment with his number, telling him to call when he needed anything. There wasn't any JARVIS installed at the apartment but Tony had the AI on his phone and he settled in for a night of further research, studying Osborn's profile. 

"He has a son, right?" Tony asked as he swallowed a mouthful of rice from the takeout container, "Any info on him?"

"Harry Osborn is the sole heir of Norman Osborn and Oscorp, sir," JARVIS replied from the phone as Tony read through another document on his tab, "He recently shifted from Woodword to Midtown School, said to improve his father's image as relatable to the common public."

"So Osborn doesn't mind using his son for his reputation. Sounds familiar," Tony shoved another mouthful of rice and pointed his chopsticks at the tab screen, "What's this new project they're having? It's classified?"

"They do have military contracts, sir," JARVIS responded, "But the Oz Formula is meant for the biochemical industry more than the military."

"That makes it much more guarded," Tony commented, changing the link, and frowning at the new screen, "Wait, why do his college records have Osborn with an e? Clerical error?"

"Mr. Osborn had an 'e' added to his surname till he graduated from college, sir," JARVIS observed, "He changed it back quite later, actually. It was right before he joined the company."

"Superstitious?" Tony scanned through the previous records and took a swill of water from the bedside, "Did he ever make any statements on it?"

"He wasn't as successful at the time," JARVIS answered and Tony raised a brow, "The Oz Formula is scheduled to be launched soon, sir. Nothing official has been released but there have been comments projecting it in around three months." 

"So he's not in any business trouble," Tony hummed as he put the empty takeout box on the bedside table, dusting his hands, "And he has a science background?"

"He worked with Dr. Mendel Stromm before branching out to Oscorp"

"A businessman with a strong science background and suspected superstitions," Tony surmised, "He has an heir, no immediate business trouble, and hasn't shown records of speaking about his step-family much. So what's his angle around Peter? If anything, a court battle will only hinder his business right now, and he's got an important project in the pipeline. Why would someone like Norman Osborn seek out a kid who's of no purpose to him?"

The phone rang and Tony looked down to see the caller-ID flash a name he didn't expect even though he should have. He considered letting it go for a minute before picking up the phone, resting his head on the headboard. 

"This is one of those rare occasions I actually hope it was a butt-dial," Tony said as a way of greeting, twirling a single chopstick between his fingers, "Or is it you calling to throw the game before it starts?"

"Anthony," Justin Hammer greeted, the smarm clear even through the phone, "I heard you were back in town. How are you, old friend?"

"Funny, I didn't know we were that," Tony replied, "Or how you heard that I was back."

"I'm glad you haven't lost your sense of humour," Hammer commented with a fake laugh that never failed to grate on Tony's nerves, "I have to admit, I was a little surprised to know that you'd arrived. I didn't expect you to come."

"I'm sure you've said that to a lot of people," Tony smirked, "Is there a reason you called?"

"Just wanted to know if you'd really taken on Rogers' case," Hammer said casually, "I've always thought that we had the best time in court but after your last time, I was a little concerned."

"Generous of you," Tony raised a brow, eyeing a spot on the ceiling as his thoughts raced, "Though I'm sure I've never heard someone call losing cases 'fun'. You're a better sport than I thought, Justin."

"Mr.Osborn has a stronger case than the good Captain can handle, Anthony," Hammer cut to the chase and Tony shook his head, "I'm sure you'd want to spare your client some misery. My office is always open to talk and maybe we could work out a solution less painful than what's gonna happen if this gets rolling."

"I'm sure you went to some law school, Justin," Tony quipped with faux casualness, "So you can figure out on your own what my answer's gonna be."

"Think about it and let me know," Hammer said nonetheless, "I'd hate to see the Stark reputation get embarrassed. See you soon, Anthony."

"I'm sure you will," Tony agreed before cutting the call, eyeing the phone for a second, "He never gets any less annoying, does he?"

"Shall we continue, sir?" JARVIS asked and Tony exhaled slowly, nodding. 

"Yeah, let's deal with him later," he decided, shifting focus back to his tab, "Pull up everything you have on Richard, JARVIS. Let's see how close Norman was to his late brother."

By the time the next day broke, Tony had digested four cups of coffee and a lot more information than he had expected, but there were still some things he needed to know. 

“JARVIS, you there?”

“For you, sir? Always,” the AI replied and Tony got up from the bed. 

“Get me all the info on Rogers and Bucky Barnes, would you?” he asked, walking towards the bathroom, “I think we should pay a visit to our new friends today.”


	6. Chapter 6

Peter got off the bike and adjusted his bag straps, clearly buying time for something. 

"What's up, Pete?" Steve asked, one hand resting on the handles, "You look a little nervous."

The boy shook his head before leaning his face closer, squinting at Steve.

“What if Harry talks to me?” Peter asked in a low tone, “Should I avoid him now?”

Steve frowned a little before cupping Peter’s shoulder gently, feeling guilty for making the kid worried. 

“Peter, you never have to avoid your friends if you want to talk to them, okay?” he explained, “Whatever happens or doesn’t, and nothing big has happened yet, Harry is  _ your _ friend. You don’t have to change yourself or your friends for the problems adults create. Okay?”

Peter nodded slowly but didn’t look completely at ease when they heard a familiar voice.

“Hey, K2!”

Peter turned around and Steve looked up to see Tony Stark walk towards them, another of those ridiculous sunglasses on his face but wearing more casual clothes this time. Some inane part of Steve’s brain noticed that the brown leather jacket and dark jeans made the man look younger, more attractive than he had been the previous day. Steve kindly shut that part up and watched Tony come closer, smiling at Peter. 

“Nice bag,” the man commented, nodding towards Peter’s bag, and Steve watched Peter’s face already lighting up, “Smart bot to choose.”

“Hey, Mr. Stark!” the kid greeted, grinning up at Tony, turning away from Steve, “Good morning!”

“It might be now that you say so, bot-boy,” Tony commented lightly and Peter’s eyes widened when he noted Tony’s sneakers. 

“You have the Wonder Woman shoes!” he exclaimed and Steve’s eyes went to the shoes too. 

“Yeah, she’s awesome,” Tony laughed, giving Peter a high-five when the kid raised his palm, “Probably as cool as Iron Man too.”

“She has the lasso!” Peter said as if it explained everything about her but Tony raised a brow skeptically. 

“You’d pick the lasso over a literal flying armour?” he asked and shrugged when Peter gave him an obvious expression, “Alright, you have layers then. That’s fine.”

“Iron Man’s great too,” Peter explained patiently, “I like both of them.”

“Fair enough,” Tony accepted, “And you like K2SO so I guess your taste is consistent in awesome things. Hi, Cap.”

“Mr. Stark,” Steve nodded but Tony shook his head and Steve corrected himself, “Tony.”

“See? We’re already learning more about each other,” the man quipped and looked at Steve, “I thought I’d come meet you today but then I realised that I had no clue where you’d be. So this seemed like a smart place to try first.”

“You don’t have to go to work, Mr. Stark?” Peter asked curiously and Tony gestured at Steve. 

“That’s why I’m here, boss,” he replied and looked over Peter at the school gate before looking back at them, “Don’t you have a school to dazzle today?”

“Bye, Steve!” Peter waved at Steve and grinned at Tony, “Bye, Iron Man!”

Tony let out a surprised chuckle at that and Steve raised a brow as he watched Peter go, turning to look at his new companion. 

“He’s got the sass to go with the smarts, that kid,” Tony commented before shifting his focus to Steve, “You’re getting late for work?”

“Yes,” Steve replied, hoping that would be enough to leave but Tony nodded amiably. 

“Great, let’s go then!” he said and came closer to the bike. 

“Excuse me?”

“What?” Tony asked, looking at Steve with mirthful eyes, “I told you, I needed to talk to you and you’re busy today, by the look of things. So we can chat on your way to work.”

“It’s a bike, not a car,” Steve reminded, hoping that Tony was joking but the man just shrugged. 

“I’ve ridden worse, Cap,” Tony replied and snorted at Steve’s expression, “Relax, I have no problem with bikes. Less things to distract me, in fact.”

“ _ I’m _ the one driving,” Steve reminded but looked at the time and gave up on the fight, “Fine, hop on. Where do you get off?”

“Wherever you do,” Tony answered and swung a leg over the back of the bike, Sitting behind Steve comfortably, “Not bad on the bike, by the way.”

Steve didn’t comment on that and kicked off, already regretting his decision. 

“So,” Tony asked over the win in their ears, pretty at ease on the bike, “this isn’t your first court appearance, right?”

“You read my records?” Steve asked back but Tony hummed vaguely, “I never gave you that information.”

“We’re in the age of technology, Cap. No information is hidden for long,” the brunet replied, “And you kinda shouldn’t keep it from me anyway.”

“How’s that connected to Peter?”

“You still think this case is about Peter?” Tony rested his forearm on Steve’s back, not flinching at the turns or speed the bike took, “Peter’s a minor, he’s not going to be questioned or analysed much. You, on the other hand, will be. So will your records.”

“What do you need to know?” Steve asked, eyes on the road. 

“Why did you lie about Sergeant Barnes in your military trial?”

Steve was always good with quick reflexes but he was especially thankful for that when he managed to not swerve or skid at the question. It was a punch to the gut and he pulled on years training to not react violently at the first impulse. He focused on the feel of the leather in his gloves, the pressure of his boots on his feet, the sound of the engine, the scent of the morning air and anything else that could ground him. The arm on his back moved and he felt a considerably gentle pat, awkward but not lingering. 

“Who told you about that?” Steve asked in as calm a voice as he could gather. 

“It was an educated guess,” Tony replied, before clearing his throat, “The case was initially against Sergeant Barnes and it does mention you two being best friends from before. You had a reputable record till then and there was a comment about you refusing the plea bargain your lawyer offered. With Barnes being - well, dead - the only thing that was being discussed was his loyalty and you don’t seem like the kind of guy who takes that lightly.”

“You’re a smart man, Mr. Stark,” Steve said after a pause, “but this isn’t up for discussion. I’m not in the habit of dragging the past through mud.”

Tony was silent for a couple of moments before Steve heard a sigh. 

“Alright, got it,” he commented and continued with other topics, “How did you know May Parker?”

“We were neighbours,” Steve replied, breathing easier at the new topic, “She played muse for a couple of my portraits and we became friends.”

“You’re an artist?” Tony sounded delightedly curious and Steve quirked a smile despite himself. 

“Peter’s the only one allowed layers?” he asked to Tony’s amused laugh, “I did a bit of hobby work between jobs. Not much anymore though.”

“Sold any?”

“Nothing worth much,” Steve clarified before chuckling, “You saw my work on Peter’s bag though.”

“Peter’s - wait, you  _ painted _ that?” Tony sounded incredulous and Steve laughed at the sheer outrage in his tone, “You paint bots? Don’t laugh, Rogers, I’m serious here!”

“It wasn’t a Monet, Tony,” Steve shook his head but Tony make an affronted noise. 

“Screw that guy, have you ever seen Monet merchandise?” the brunet demanded before tapping Steve’s shoulder, “You know what, I’ve decided that I’m going to commission you.”

“You’ve decided, is it?”

“Consider it my fee,” Tony said nonchalantly and Steve raised his brows. 

“About that,” Steve began in a serious tone, “We should probably discuss the amount before we get any further.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Tony quipped and Steve frowned. 

“I should,” he pointed out, “I know that your rate is high and -”

“I’m telling you, don’t worry about it,” Tony repeated. 

“Why? It’s not like you’ll do this for free,” Steve argued and looked in his mirror when there was no response, “Are you?”

“Can we discuss this once the case is over?” Tony asked, “Or at least after it actually begins?”

“No,” Steve refused, “Why’re you doing it for free? We’re not asking you to do a charity case here, Mr. Stark.”

“Do you always get offended so soon or is it just me?” Tony asked before continuing, “I never said anything about a charity.”

“Then what’s your angle here?”

“Steve, you can’t afford me if I played by your ball here,” Tony said bluntly but pushed on before Steve could say anything, “Not many people can. And those who can are usually people who shouldn’t win cases. I’ve seen this. I’ve won cases for them before. I’m not interested in doing that anymore. So when I say don’t worry about it, I’m not saying that as a favour to you. I’m saying that because I want to be spared from the ridiculousness of fighting cases that aren’t worth the amount my bank account gets.”

“Why are you fighting this case?” Steve asked, though his tone was calmer this time, the edge left out. 

“Because I don’t believe that families are made by genetics or blood,” Tony replied before adding glibly, “And I like Peter. He’s smart enough to know who he wants to grow up with.”

Steve stopped the bike and turned his head to the side, looking at Tony. 

“We’re here,” he said when Tony looked at him inquisitively, nodding at the gate of his office, “You’re gonna have to get another ride from here.”

“Ah, brilliant,” Tony looked around before swinging off the bike, pulling his jacket closer, “Alright, have a productive day, guarding people or whatever it is you do.”

“Bye, Tony,” Steve replied and nodded before driving into the parking space. His phone pinged as he was entering the building after a few minutes and Steve pulled it out to see a message from Tony. 

_ Do you also do portraits? I have a brilliant idea for myself in the Iron Man suit.  _

“Definitely a punk,” Steve muttered with a chuckle and stuffed the phone back into his jacket, knowing that Tony Stark was a species of strangeness on his own. 

After a long day at work, Steve wanted nothing more than to just sleep. He hoped that the soup from two days back was gonna be enough for dinner but still was prepared to dig up some noodles if he needed to. He rang the bell to the Leeds’ house and was surprised when the door opened. 

“You?”

“Hey, Cap,” Tony greeted and turned to yell back into the living room, “It’s Cap, don’t worry!”

“What’re you doing here?” Steve asked, looking over Tony’s shoulder, “Where’s Peter?”

“He’s inside, relax,” Tony rolled his eyes and moved to let Steve in, gesturing when he didn’t move, “You gonna come in? We’re building a Deathstar.”

“What?” Steve asked but Tony had already gone in and Mr. Leeds came through, smiling at Steve, “Hi, uh, Nelson is Pete here?”

“Hi, Steve, come on in,” the shorter man answered, wiping his hands on a dishrag, “Mr. Stark’s keeping both the boys busy with his Lego kit. It’s a war-zone.”

“I’m so sorry for the trouble,” Steve began apologizing but Ned’s dad laughed, shaking his head.

“Trouble? It’s great,” he replied, whipping the rag over his shoulder, “I’ve not seen them complete their homework  _ and _ snacks in such a record-time. And he’s pretty interesting to them, especially with all his science tricks.”

“Right,” Steve smiled awkwardly, looking in the direction of the noise, “How did he come here?”

“He came to talk about the school,” Nelson explained, “I didn’t know about the case till he explained. It’s terrible, Steve, I’m so sorry. Mr. Stark wanted to know about the teachers and staff of the school, and then we got talking. He’s a smart fellow.”

“Yes, I’m getting that,” Steve breathed out and turned when he heard Peter’s voice. 

“Hi, Steve!” the boy beamed, cheeks flushed as he almost skipped his way to them, “Do you know what we’re doing?”

“Building a Deathstar?” Steve asked, grinning at the enthusiasm on the kid’s face, “Yeah, your new friend told me.”

“Hi, Uncle Steve!” Ned called out, following Peter with a smile, “Can Peter and Mr. Stark stay for some more time?”

Steve exchanged a look with Nelson and turned to figure out an appeasing answer when Tony came out of the room, combing his hand through his hair. 

“No, we can’t,” he said, raising a brow at Ned, “We’ve completed our day’s quota of engineering, right?”

“But it’s still not finished!” Ned insisted and Peter nodded in agreement. 

“Of course it isn’t, it’s a masterpiece,” Tony agreed but didn’t give in, “However, we’re gonna burn-out if we try to finish it in one stretch. And if we burn-out, we won’t produce quality work. What’s the first rule of engineering?”

“Quality always comes first,” both the kids chanted together, making Steve suppress a smile. 

“Exactly,” Tony nodded, extending a hand towards Ned, “We’ll continue our work at our next scheduled appointment, Mr. Leeds. Deal?”

“Deal, Mr. Stark,” Ned agreed and shook the hand solemnly, doing the same with Peter, “See you tomorrow, Mr. Parker.”

“You too, Mr. Leeds,” Peter replied seriously, and Steve shot Tony a curious look but only got a mock serious nod in reply. 

“If all the engineers are done bidding farewell,” Steve interjected, “how about we get going?”

Peter said bye to Ned one more time before rushing out the door, ahead of the adults. 

“Alright, buddy,” Tony shook Nelson’s hand and clapped his arm lightly, “Thanks for all the help. I’ll get in touch if I have any doubts.”

“Of course, Mr. Stark,” Nelson replied and waved goodbye to Steve too. 

“So,” Tony asked once they had left, turning to Steve with an expectant look, “what’s for dinner?”

Steve stared at him for a minute before marching towards his own apartment.

“I guess I’m not invited?” Tony called out but Steve kept going, “Alright! I’ll see you tomorrow too!”

“Oh, great,” Steve mumbled but rolled his eyes with a reluctant smile when he entered the apartment to find Peter buzzing with excitement. He still didn’t know if Tony was good or just crazy but he had somehow managed to capture Peter’s attention, making things look brighter than they should have. 

Maybe there was something smart about picking Tony Stark after all, Steve thought as he shut the door behind him. 


	7. Chapter 7

He had met his share of rich men, even gone through a couple of clubs that reeked of hoarded wealth, but there was something about the Tom Ford clad silver-haired man sitting opposite him that made Tony wary. Maybe it was the eyes that reminded him so much of his dad’s or maybe it was the ruthlessness masked by polite manners, similar to Obie. The muted gold and emerald cufflinks sat perfectly on pristine tailoring, hands steady in poise, and there was no shred of doubt in his tone. 

Norman Osborn could have passed off for a cold-blooded alien if he wasn’t sitting right there in human flesh and blood. 

Beside Tony, Steve was a sculpture carved out of unshakeable stone, and he could only hope that they didn’t reveal any chips in the mask because Osborn definitely had a sharper vision than his lawyer. 

Tony had thankfully been trained out of showing weakness when presenting, one of the few things he knew Stane would be credited to, and it served him well as he sat in the first meeting between the two parties. 

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Captain Rogers,” Hammer said and Tony had to restrain himself from rolling his eyes, “We had hoped to meet at a better situation but I think it still hasn’t devolved much. Mr. Osborn has learnt of you raising Peter all by yourself till now and that’s a commendable job.”

“He didn’t have much of a choice,” Osborn spoke up and Tony could  _ feel _ Steve bristle, “I wish Ms. Parker had contacted me after Mary’s demise but I suppose she was busy herself and didn’t know me well. Still, you shouldn’t have had to be burdened with someone else’s family and I’m sure you deserve to be compensated for your help.”

Tony subtly touched Steve’s knee with his own, urging him to keep his calm quietly. They had discussed this before the meeting, the ways in which they could be insulted or brushed aside. 

“I’m sure Peter’s parents had thought well before they chose May as his godmother,” Steve said in an even voice, “Her accident was a shock but Peter was safe with his family.”

“It’s good that we’ve discovered your connection to Peter though,” Tony took over, directing attention at himself, “Especially since your step-brother wasn’t really present when Peter was born. I’m sorry about his demise.”

“Richard didn’t know about his son when he died,” Osborn commented, eyes sharp, but Tony held his gaze, “I’m sure he would have arranged for something better if he had known.”

“I can’t speak for the dead, Mr. Osborn, but,” Tony looked between Hammer and his client, “I’m sure that anybody can identify a pregnant woman at 6 months. Didn’t your brother break-up with Mary Parker during her seventh month of pregnancy? We wouldn’t want to insult his intelligence by claiming he was unaware of a clear fact.”

“Mary was a smart woman, Mr. Stark,” Osborn countered calmly, the coldness shining through in his eyes, “She was one of the best scientists in our company and she was from a good family too. I’m sure you can imagine the scandal that could have come up in her circles if the news had gotten out. Desperation can bring up a lot of ideas.”

“Why exactly are you interested in Peter, Mr. Osborn?” Tony asked, shifting the gear, “As we know, the heir to your company is your son. And there’s no record of your brother’s legacy that would require you to make Peter carry it forward.”

“He’s my nephew, Mr. Stark,” Osborn answered and Tony noted Hammer looking a little wary but kept his focus on Osborn, “And a genius at that. His teachers remark how he should be in an advanced system, tailored for his special skills. Captain Rogers hasn’t shown interest in giving him the guidance needed for his intellect and it’s my duty to see that rectified.”

“But isn’t your own son studying in the same school?” Tony enquired, looking at Hammer too, “Why aren’t you applying this philosophy to him?”

“Harry is a smart boy,” Osborn agreed, unfazed, “but he isn’t on the same level as Peter. I don’t look at bias when it comes to intelligence, Mr. Stark.”

“Peter can develop his skills while getting a normal education experience,” Steve commented and Tony winced internally. 

“Normal?” Osborn repeated and Hammer caught on, looking at Steve with a disappointed expression. 

“Captain, Peter is on a scale above his peers,” he explained, looking at Tony, “Anthony here can tell you how difficult it is for kids like him to develop at full capacity when restricted to ‘normal’ boundaries. Giving him advanced education or a better chance at recognizing his potential isn’t abnormal. Anthony, isn’t that what worked with you too?”

“Peter isn’t me, Justin,” Tony tried to get the meeting back on track, “And I’m sure none of us wants to make that comparison either.”

“Then let’s take Peter’s own mother as an example,” Hammer countered, “Mary Parker was a certified genius too and her parents recognized it, giving her all the tools necessary to shine the way she could. If she had gotten a ‘normal’ education or life experience, she wouldn’t have achieved most of the things she did, would she?”

“She committed suicide because she wasn’t able to handle the stress,” Steve grit out and Tony inhaled slowly. 

“Can we focus on Peter here?” he asked but Osborn was staring at Steve before giving him a cold smile. 

“So that’s the thing,” Osborn said, leaning back in his chair, “You’re purposefully stopping Peter’s progress because of a past he isn’t even aware of. Is he, Captain Rogers?”

“Mr. Osborn -” Hammer tried to intervene but the older man didn’t stop. 

“It doesn’t surprise me somehow,” he commented lazily, “You have a history with people committing suicide and making terrible decisions because of those incidents, don’t you?”

Tony could see the explosion happen even before Steve spoke and mentally sighed. 

When they finally left the building an hour later, Tony didn’t speak a word. It was getting dark and the sky looked tired, like it had been waiting for the day to end too.

“I’ll drop you,” he said when they reached the parking lot. Steve hadn’t said a word either and looked surprised to hear Tony. 

“I brought my bike,” he replied, sounding cautious, but Tony simply opened the passenger’s door before moving towards the driver’s side. 

“We’ve had enough disasters for one day,” he said as he opened his door, “You getting into an accident of road rage isn’t even on the  _ list  _ of the last things we need.”

“I can handle myself,” Steve defended but Tony was on the last nerve. 

“I saw that,” he said curtly, meeting Steve’s eyes before inhaling deep, “I’ll ask someone to pick up your bike. They’ll drop it off at the apartment. Can you please get in the car?”

Steve glared at Tony before complying, movements jerky as he shut the door. Tony exhaled one last time before getting in himself. He sent Happy a message before starting the car, pulling out of the parking smoothly. They drove in silence for fifteen minutes, both of them not looking at each other. Tony tried to calm himself, knowing that he had expected some level of a mess-up before they had got to the meeting. It wasn’t going to be easy for everyone to keep calm when sensitive cases came up. 

“He was a right bastard,” Steve said, still looking out the window and Tony chuckled bitterly. 

“We already knew that,” he replied, glancing at the other man’s tense form, “We’d done our research, we knew he was a right bastard even before we set foot into the place. That doesn’t change that we screwed up though.”

“What did you expect me to do?” Steve countered, looking at Tony, eyes blazing blue, “You heard what he said!”

“And I told you what a temper show would cost us!” Tony shot back, shifting the gear as they turned lanes, “It’s their job to provoke a response from us. You knew that, I told you they’d do it!”

“Well, it was your job to defend us!” Steve responded and Tony shot him an incredulous look before focusing on the road. 

“It was my  _ job _ to try and keep this from going to trial soon,” Tony said, controlling his tone when he realized that they were getting nowhere with this, “I get it, I understand why you flared up but this is what they’ll continue to do, Steve. If you wanted decency, they’re not the crowd to expect it from.”

Steve didn’t say anything and Tony let it lie, watching the evening turn darker in silence. 

“I was distracted by Peter the day I got the first mail”

Tony didn’t respond but sneaked a glance at Steve, who was looking straight ahead. 

“He was trying to solve his favourite puzzle and I could see him dozing off,” Steve continued, shaking his head with a soft quirk of his lips, “He can’t handle leaving something unsolved, so of course he wasn’t letting it be. I carried him to his bed and promised that I’d let him stay at Ned’s place the next time I had an emergency at work.”

“He has a favourite puzzle?” Tony asked with a grin and Steve chuckled, shooting Tony a look. 

“Dr. Erskine gave it for his last birthday,” he answered, “I had to literally pry it off his hand that night, after he had fallen asleep clutching it.”

“I see the stubbornness doesn’t fall from the tree,” Tony teased but Steve rolled his eyes before sighing quietly. 

“I feel like I haven’t even spoken to Peter properly ever since all of this began,” he said, shifting his jaw, “In my attempts to keep him with me, I’m pushing him away myself.”

“Then don’t,” Tony suggested, meeting Steve’s look for a second, “I know it sounds easier than done but maybe that’s what you need to do right now. Steve, you hired a lawyer to fight the case for you. You haven’t hired anyone to replace you in Peter’s life or freeze time.”

Steve let the statement stand and Tony drove on, feeling less tense than they had been when they’d left. 

“Hey,” Tony called out when they reached the apartment and Steve got out.

“Yeah?” Steve bent to look at him through the window.

“Try puzzles,” Tony said and Steve looked confused before they both chuckled, “What? It’s good quality time spent together. You can join our Lego team too, if you want.”

“Let’s try a picnic for a change,” Steve counter-offered, making Tony look dubious, “Fresh air isn’t a bad idea.”

“Why can’t people eat food in a closed environment, with bug protection?”

“I’ll send you an invite too,” Steve said and leaned away from the car, waving goodbye before he went climbed up the stairs.

“Picnic,” Tony muttered to himself and shook his head before pulling off toward his own apartment. When he reached the apartment, he pulled out his phone and was checking his messages as he got to his door, only to stop short at the entrance. 

There was a red envelope placed at the doorstep, with a yellow post-it note stuck to it that had just his name typed in block letters. He took a photograph of it using his phone and saved it with the time-stamp, already calculating the risks of picking it up. He went to check with the security who denied anyone coming in for a delivery. Going back to the door, he eyed the package before quickly picking it up. When nothing happened and no one came by, he opened the door to get in. 

“If this is Osborn, it’s way too dramatic even for him,” he said to himself, taking a minute to activate the mini bluetooth speakers he had installed in the place, “JARVIS, you there?”

“Yes, sir, what can I do for you?”

“Just call 911 if something goes wrong, okay?” he suggested and opened the package carefully, watching for a razor or something nefarious hidden in the folds. He emptied the contents of the package onto the couch once it was opened and stared at what fell out. 

“Sir?” JARVIS enquired, “is everything alright?”

“Uh,” Tony breathed in deep and scratched at the back of his neck, “let’s just say that someone wants to join our little game, J.”

“Sir?”

“I don’t know who it is,” Tony elaborated and peered at the photograph that had fallen on top of the pile, “but it might be a friend we could use. Especially if this is what I think it is.”

He picked up the photograph and stared at the trio smiling back at him from the old print. He could identify Osborn as the guy but the other man and sickly looking woman were strangers. What intrigued him more through was what was written on the bottom of the photograph. 

“What does M Hall mean?” he asked out aloud, frowning at the younger past who were now adding mystery to the present. 


	8. Chapter 8

Peter was sure that he’d win. All he had to do was hold the stare for exactly 28 seconds more.

“I count four big fat tears,” Sharon said as she held his gaze, waggling her brows, “Five now.”

“I can do this,” Peter insisted and scrunched his face to push his tears back. 

“You two  _ do _ know that I can buy two ice-creams, right?” Sam asked from where he was waiting for the contest to end so he could go get the ice-creams, “This is the most ridiculous idea possible.”

“I bet they’ve had worse,” Natasha commented from beside Peter, leisurely eating her snow cone, “Either of you done yet?”

“No,” both of them said simultaneously and Sam sighed above them. 

“Hey,” Sharon yelped and turned around sharply, “Stark, what the he-ck?”

“Oh, was that your foot,” Tony said with the least apologetic expression anyone had seen, “I didn’t see.”

“I win!” Peter yelled, blinking down the tears finally, grinning at an annoyed Sharon, “I win! I win!”

“He cheated!” Sharon pointed at Tony, who simply shrugged as he ate his strawberry ice-cream, “Fine, we’ll have the orange.”

“Thanks, Tony!” Peter high fived Tony, who slinked into the corner of his booth when Sharon shot him a dry look, “Two orange bars!”

Sam chuckled at Sharon and went to get the flavours. The picnic planned for just Steve and Peter had turned into a group outing that had somehow included Tony. Peter was delighted when Tony brought him Iron Man shoes that matched his own, and had rushed to change into them even as Steve called it blatant bribery. Peter called it being  _ awesome _ though and had spent the entire time telling Tony all about his favourite superheroes. He usually did that with Aunt Sharon so she had looked a bit upset at first but then Tony had said that Aunt Sharon was a superhero herself too. 

Peter  _ totally  _ agreed. 

“Sorry, Aunt Sharon,” Peter hugged her when she was still frowning slightly at Tony, “You can have a bite from my ice-cream too.”

Tony chuckled but Aunt Sharon kissed Peter’s cheek and made a face, wiping the dirt there. 

“That’s cool, champ, I’ll just get a penalty goodie from Mr. Stark later,” she said as she pulled Peter into her booth, slinging an arm around his shoulders, “Orange isn’t so bad anyway.”

“It’s amazing,” Peter declared because it definitely was. It always made him feel tingly in is cheeks and tasted best at any time. Ms. Stacy’s book said that being happy released endorphins in the brain and orange ice-cream always made him happy. 

“I finally found him,” Steve announced as he dragged Uncle Clint into the parlour, his hair spiked straight, “Nat, you’re on Clint duty from now.”

“Hey!” Uncle Clint exclaimed but Peter giggled when he saw Steve shoot him a dry look. 

“Where’d you find him?” Aunt Sharon asked, smirking at Uncle Clint who scowled at her. 

“Under the bridge,” Steve said and shook his head, “No,  _ literally _ under the bridge. He didn’t get the memo that we’d finished playing hide-and-seek so he was still clinging to the underside of the bridge.”

The entire group burst out into laughter and it became louder when Natasha snorted on her ice-cream, spraying some onto Aunt Sharon’s hand. 

When the time came to leave, Peter looked up at Tony, tugging on his arm. 

“Hmm?”

“Can we come with you?” he asked, looking at Steve when Tony glanced at him, “Please, Steve? Tony said he has an actual bot and an AI. Can we go see? Please?”

“We can’t put Tony in a spot like this, Pete,” Steve said, glancing up at Tony before looking at him again, “He’s got work like everyone else.”

“Can you work  _ while  _ we see the bot?” Peter asked Tony, even trying his best puppy eyes, “We won’t disturb you, I promise.”

“You’re good at the puppy eyes, smarty,” Tony informed him, chuckling when Peter didn’t let up, “I just moved back into the penthouse three days ago so you’ll have to be careful. Dum-E isn’t the smartest and I’m still reprogramming him.”

“Done,” Peter promised but Tony looked up at Steve, waiting for his decision too. Steve eyed both of them before looking at Tony. 

“Is it clean?” he asked and Tony nodded, shifting Peter’s hand in his grasp lightly. 

“Cleaned and stocked but it’s pretty - bare otherwise,” he shrugged, “If you wanna look at the workshop, then you’re welcome.”

“It’s Fun Sunday, Steve,” Peter reminded, making Steve raise his brow but still look willing. 

“Fine,” he agreed, pointing at Peter when he yelled out, “but we leave when I say we should. Done?”

Peter agreed and winked up at Tony who smirked back at him. 

Tony’s house was in a huge tower, with glass windows going up till the sky. Peter hesitantly touched the polished glass as they entered, marvelling at the ceiling when they entered the building. 

“Psst,” Tony hissed and Peter looked to see him wink before stealing some candy from the reception desk. 

“You shouldn’t steal,” Peter whispered to him and Tony raised his brows at Peter who nodded seriously.

“Alright,” Tony agreed and went to put the candy back, saluting the receptionist when she saw him putting it back on the pretty bowl. 

They went to Tony’s floor in one of the fanciest elevators Peter had seen, making him a bit conscious of his dirty shoes when he saw mirrors on all sides. His eyes caught Tony’s in the mirror and he burst out laughing when he saw him make funny eyes and put finger horns on Steve’s head. 

“I can see you,” Steve said without turning and raised a brow when Tony batted his eyes in the mirror. They reached the floor and Peter sucked in a breath when he got off the elevator. 

“Whoa”

“Yeah,” Tony hummed as he followed them.

“It’s so…” Peter trailed off as he looked around, eyes taking in everything around them.

“Yep”

“White,” Peter finished and Tony paused, looking at Peter before he exchanged a look with Steve.

“Yeah, that too,” Tony laughed with Steve but Peter was busy looking around, wondering why there was no colour other than white or the occasional beige and stone. 

“Where’s the workshop?” he asked when he gathered that everything else might look the same. 

Tony’s workshop was completely different to the rest of the house and Peter felt like his brain was going to explode from all the things he wanted to touch or try. 

“ _ Whoa _ ”

“Yep”

“ _ This _ is awesome!” Peter declared and walked in, taking in all the gadgets, spare parts, designs, and tech placed in different places. 

“It is pretty cool,” he heard Steve say but Peter’s attention came to a halt when he saw the coolest thing he had ever seen.

“That’s Dum-E,” Tony said from behind him, “Dum-E, meet some friends, come on.”

“Oh my God,” Peter whispered to himself when he saw Dum-E wheel towards them, his arm moving up to focus the camera on Peter before checking Tony. He stopped near the table and reversed before moving without hitting the table. 

Peter loved him already.

“Yeah, he’s been working on his spatial recognition,” Tony said, a hand resting lightly on Peter’s shoulder, “Dum-E, this is Peter. He’s a friend of mine. Pete, this bunch of nuts and bolts is Dum-E.”

“Hi,” Peter waved and waited till Dum-E waved his arm haphazardly, “Can I touch your arm?”

Dum-E raised his camera to Tony and Peter looked up to see Tony looking at him strangely.

“I don’t want to scare him,” Peter explained and Tony cleared his throat before nodding. 

“You can touch his arm,” he allowed and Peter looked at Dum-E who slowly extended his closed claw towards Peter. Once he was close enough, the claw opened and Peter grinned, lightly tapping it.

“High five, Dum-E,” he said and laughed when Dum-E tapped his palm again, “I think he likes me, Tony!”

When Tony introduced them to JARVIS, Peter sat down on the couch with Dum-E standing beside it, and began chatting with JARVIS about everything. Tony chipped in from time to time but then let them talk, sitting at his work-table with some papers. Steve was busy discussing something with Tony till he volunteered to go get some snacks from the kitchen Tony directed him to. Peter was so engrossed in his own world that he didn’t note when Tony had wheeled his chair to face him.

“Who’s Flash?” he asked and Peter blinked, “You said Flash calls you names sometimes. Who’s Flash?”

“I was talking to JARVIS,” Peter evaded but Tony frowned lightly, waiting till Peter sighed, “He’s a kid in my class. He says I’m weird.”

“Is weird bad?” Tony asked, tilting his head a bit, “I mean, I know calling someone names isn’t right but being weird - why’s that bad?”

“He doesn’t call anybody else that,” Peter explained and Tony nodded, looking thoughtful, “Sometimes he gets angry when I know the answer to things others don’t and then he doesn’t let me eat lunch in peace.”

“Yeah, that’s bad,” Tony agreed, looking at Peter, “What do you do when that happens?”

“I told Ms. Francis once but she said that I need to be in a different class,” Peter picked at his shirt sleeve, “She said it’d stop if I was in a class with other kids who could answer like me.”

“When did that happen?” Peter heard Steve ask and looked to see him in the entrance of the workshop with a tray, staring at him, “Why didn’t you tell me about it?”

“I didn’t do anything,” Peter defended himself, crossing his arms, “Nothing happened, Steve.”

“I -,” Steve paused and placed the tray on the nearest table before coming towards Peter, “I’m not blaming you, bud. But Ms. Francis shouldn’t be saying that to you.”

“She’s not wrong,” Peter muttered, staring at his hands and heard the squeak of wheels after a brief pause. 

“She’s not right either,” Steve said once Tony had left the workshop, sitting down beside Peter, “What Flash is doing is bullying, Pete. Remember when we learnt about it last year?”

“He doesn’t say it to anyone else,” Peter insisted, feeling frustrated in his gut, “Everyone likes him. Nobody stares at him when he answers questions.”

“That’s because you know answers they don’t,” Steve began but Peter was feeling a terrible confusion in his chest, he didn’t know how to explain to Steve and it was making him angry. 

“It’s because they’re dumb!” he declared.

“No, they’re not,” Steve corrected firmly, “You know that’s not something you call people for no reason.”

“Well, they are!” Peter argued, glaring up at Steve, “How come they can’t do things I can?! If I’m not weird and if I don’t need to be in a different class, how come I’m not like them?”

“They’re all learning -”

“Not like me!” Peter yelled, wanting Steve to understand because it was eating at his head, “I can do algebra and trigonometry! They don’t teach that in school, not in my class, and that makes me odd!”

“Pete, don’t yell,” Steve warned calmly but Peter had lost control. 

“You don’t understand me!” he accused Steve, feeling tears well up even though he was angry, “Mr. Osborn wants me to be in a different class. Ms. Francis wants me to be in a different class. Everybody says that but you keep saying no because you don’t want me to be smart! You don’t like it when I’m smart but I am! Maybe smarter than you too!”

Steve stared at Peter who felt sick in his stomach, not liking anything, and he got up from the couch. Tony was standing at the top of the workshop stairs, working on his phone, and he looked up when Peter came. 

“I wanna go home,” Peter said, wiping at his eyes furiously, and Tony nodded. 

“Let Cap come and I’ll drop you both”

“Why can’t you drop me home right now?” Peter demanded but Tony met his gaze calmly, not fazed by his temper or tears. 

“Because he wouldn’t abandon you and leave either,” Tony said and Peter looked away, swallowing hard. Steve came up in two minutes looking composed but Peter didn’t meet his eyes and stayed on Tony’s other side as they left. 

That night, Steve didn’t say much and Peter could feel the guilt creeping in as he remembered what he had told. He wanted to make things right but everytime he tried, he could feel his throat closing up, like it did when he had an allergy. He lay in bed and tried to sleep but nothing worked. Getting up, he quietly walked to the living room and picked up the cell Steve had left on charge. Looking around to see if Steve was around, he unplugged it and quickly carried it to his room. 

Tony picked up the call on the fourth ring and Peter pulled the sheet tighter over his head. 

“Yeah?”

“Tony?” Peter whispered and cleared his throat to speak again in a low tone, “Are you awake?”

“I am now, buddy, what’s up?” Tony asked, not sounding like he had been sleeping, “Everything okay there?”

“I think Steve’s mad,” Peter confided, chewing at his lip, “Really mad.”

“Possible, but did he say something?”

“No,” Peter replied, looking at the pattern of the stars from his night light, visible through his sheet, “But he’s not talking to me.”

“And you’ve tried talking to him?” Tony asked with his mouth full, swallowing something before he continued, “Did you say anything?”

Peter remained silent and Tony exhaled over the phone.

“Gotcha,” he said, the sound of a fork dropping onto a plate audible in the background, “Well, one of you has got to try first. And you kind of  _ were _ the one who did the yelling, Pete.”

“I know,” Peter whined, pressing his head further into the pillow, “But I got scared and then confused.”

“And then exploded?”

“Yeah,” Peter agreed, knowing that it was true, “What do I do now?”

“The usual thing to do is apologize, smarty,” Tony suggested before adding, “But you can also try telling Steve what you want. I know we’re talking a lot of serious stuff with Mr. Osborn but we didn’t really ask you what you wanted to do.”

“I want to stay with Steve,” Peter said promptly but Tony hummed vaguely.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” he agreed, “but about the other things. About school and classes, the syllabus and other things. Maybe Steve will understand things better if he knows what you want?”

“What if Steve doesn’t like those things?”

“Then you both can discuss things your reasons,” Tony replied, “And we can figure out the ways you both can get what you want.”

“Okay,” Peter agreed quietly. 

“Alright. Now you should probably give Steve his phone back,” Tony quipped, “Sleep for now and sort things out fresh in the morning. That work for you?”

Peter agreed and wished Tony goodnight before sneaking out to go plug the phone back to the charger. He stopped at the door to his room and remembered that he hadn’t switched the charger on but when he went to look, it was. Assuming that he had missed it, he went to bed, missing the Steve-shaped shadow that waited till he was asleep. 

He was sure that he’d make things right the next morning, just like Tony had said. 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you, my beloved reader, enjoyed this in any bit possible. If you did, please do leave me a comment. If you have questions or wish to discuss anything, leave me a message on Tumblr @xtaticpearlsblog. I'm always happy to find new friends in the fandom!


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